DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. Nothing!!!!! Ahem, sorry

Do you know there are absolutely NO Sam and Bobby romances, none! Hey, that makes me a pioneer!! And they have such a cool combined name - Bam! In fact I did a ff.net search for the name Sam in XME and nothing came up. I love Sam, I like to refer to him as blonde-Lance. Anywho, I plan to start a new era, BAM for everyone! Woo!! *the readers start to back away slowly* Oh wait, never mind, there are no readers.

Never Been Iced
Kelly - li_luva_2000@yahoo.ca
www.oocities.org/xpressionismx - woo, shameless self promotion

Bobby leaned back against the cool rough tree bark, tired but fully pleased with himself. They would be back soon. And he would be waiting. The eager pleading voice carried on the cool fall wind as Bobby watched the two figures traipse across the dormant grass, the taller, lankier blonde leading the blindfolded multiplier with a gentle hand on the small of his back. "Are we there yet Sam?"

Sam laughed, a laugh Bobby loved - it was so open and friendly and pure. "Almost, squirt." He ruffled the thick brown hair.

"Can you please, please, please, please, please tell me what the surprise is? Puh-leeze," begged Jamie, fidgeting in anticipation.

"What kind of surprise would it be if I told you," drawled Sam. He flashed a quick grin as the two neared the tree where Bobby sat. "Besides, Bobby might beat me. He's very fanatic about surprises not being ruined."

Bobby stuck out his tongue at Sam, who blew him a raspberry in response. He stopped Jamie just in front of the surprise in question and deftly undid the blindfold, holding it in place. "Are you ready?"

"Yup."

"Really really ready?"

"Yes. Please can I see it? Please Sam."

"Well, alright . . ."

Faster than the old dishtowel hit the ground, Jamie gasped, a response that was quickly followed by a squeal of delight and stammered thank-you's. Bobby shared a smile with Sam. Jamie loved it. It was definitely worth overtaxing his powers a fraction just to see his reaction. "You built me an ice rink!" His voice was full of gratitude and utter awe.

It wasn't much of a rink, mused Bobby, eying the makeshift ice surface with the critical perspective of a creator. The thing was more accurately a small, frozen wading pool built by two teenagers with very little idea of what they were doing. The design was Sam's, they'd apparently done something of the sort on his farm back home - a huge tarp, covered in about 5 inches of water, with the sides propped up with wood so the water didn't leak out. It'd taken them half the morning to set it up and Bobby the better part of an hour just to freeze it.

He scrunched his nose, it wasn't completely level, there was a significant slant in the back left corner. Though from the look on Jamie's face you'd have sworn they'd given him an Olympic arena or something. Poor kid, he'd wanted to play minor hockey so badly this year but . . . well obviously he couldn't, what if he got checked? Plus there was the overwhelming factor that he was a Xavier institute kid, which basically blacklisted them from any public activity anyway in Bayville. You'd swear they had the Bubonic plague the way people avoided them on the streets. So this backyard rink was the next best thing.

Bobby smiled to himself at the impromptu one on five (being the number of Jamies) shinny hockey game which Sam was valiantly losing. The quintet of Multiples pumped their fists in unison as they scored another goal and he couldn't help but laugh. Sam shot him a wry smile. "You know, you could help instead of just sitting there and mocking me."

"I could," Bobby teased, stretching lazily, "but it's so much more fun to watch you get your ass kicked by a twelve-year-old."

"Five twelve-year-olds, thank you very much."

"Oh, I apologize. There's such a huge difference."

Sam rolled his eyes but he was smiling, "Shut up Drake."

*~*~*~*

Bobby padded down towards the kitchen, wearing just his boxers, slippers, and a bathrobe despite the fact it was only 6:30 p.m. Yes, it was quite the lovely ensemble but . . .what did he care? He'd been feeling kind of off since this morning. Bobby just wanted to sleep and eat . . . not necessarily in that order. Using his powers always took it out of him.

At least it was quiet for once. Unnaturally quiet, really. And he could have swore he heard footsteps behind him. OoooOoooo, spooky . . . Bobby almost laughed out loud. As if anything as interesting as a serial killer would happen in Bayville. He turned just in time to see the dark figure approach upon him.

Bobby would have screamed if not for the furry hand that was clamped over his mouth. BAMF. And within seconds he was alone . . . in the dark . . . in the forest . . . in the cold. He was going to KILL Kurt. Kill him and then skin his fuzzy blue hide! He tied the sash on his robe and began to trudge through the black trees, muttering elfin death threats under his breath. What had possessed him to do this? This was not Nightcrawler's typical type of practical joke. And why Bobby of all people? Why not Scott or Evan?

And why the hell were there candles in the middle of the institute forest? A trail of candles more accurately . . . and roses? Well it was official. He was being seduced. And he liked it. Mmm. He'd never pegged the blue boy for the . . . well, for the loose-wristed type, though you never really knew with the older recruits. Ah well, he'd just have to see. "HelloooOooo," he called, playing up to the victim persona, "Is anybody out there?" More footsteps behind him . . . Bobby grinned. Let the seduction begin.

A soft silky blindfold was tied gently over his eyes. Ooo, kinky. Damn, was he wearing clean boxers? If someone was going to mock kidnap you they should at least have the common decency to let you prepare. Then again, if they were just going to get stripped off later . . .

Warm hands gripped his and tugged him forward. Warm, non-furry hands . . . hmm . . . not Kurt. They'd just enlisted the ‘Crawler's help. Interesting. "Are you gonna tell me who you are?" No response. Smothered male laughter. Thank god, if it was Amara again he would have screamed. The girl could NOT take a hint.

A heavy coat was pulled over his shoulders. No, he was supposed to be getting undressed. UNDRESSED! Obviously his admirer was an amateur. None of the older boys would have made such a rookie mistake. That narrowed it down to Roberto and Ray, as far as he figured. Mmm, delicious Da Costa or sexy Crispy . . . Though Ray did threaten him if he ever called him Crispy again. Or maybe it was just a ‘love' threaten, yes. It was all very logical, Ray was hiding his feelings for Bobby until the right moment. Then again maybe he just had a bit too much time on his hands to fantasize things like this . . .

Bobby and his mystery suitor had stopped walking. A hand rested gently on the small of his back. "So it's a surprise is it? Couldn't you share it with me?" It was hard to be coy when he was freezing his ass off. Maybe the jacket wasn't such a bad idea.

The breath was heavy and close on the back of his neck, his voice a throaty whisper. Dammit, why couldn't he figure out who it was? "What kind of surprise would it be if I told you?"

"Come on, please." He was whining now . . . whining was not sexy, Bobby. Bad Iceman, bad. Think demure, think smooth, think . . . Oh good, he was being laughed at.

The sexy whisper was replaced by a friendly chuckle. "You're as bad as Jamie," teased the soft drawl. Oh, it was Sam. It was Sam!?! Sam Guthrie? Straight as a ruler Sam Guthrie?

"SAM?" That was suave, Bobby. Real smooth.

The blindfold dropped and strong warm arms wrapped around him from behind, a chin resting on his left shoulder in the awkward hug. Bobby turned his head to meet Sam's intense gaze, the blue eyes sparkling mischievously, "Surprised?"

"A little . . ." he squeaked out, utterly and completely dumbfounded. His gaze traveled to the stretch of lawn which spread out before him, he knew where he was now - the rink they had made for Jamie. The ice was lit up by a ring of candles, two red roses crossed in the middle next to a picnic basket. "I . . . I . . . wow. You did this?"

Sam released him from the hug, bowing his head a little sheepishly, "Well, Kurt may have helped a bit with the planning. He does have a steady girlfriend and all."

"Are you asking me to be your girlfriend Mr. Guthrie?"

Sam's eyes grew wide and the blush became deeper. "No, that's not what I meant. I mean . . . well . . . yes technically but . . . you know not . . . really, cause you're a boy and all and . . .well, um . . ."

He stroked his index finger over Sam's supple lower lip, "Shh, you're much cuter when you're quiet." Bobby flashed him a boyish grin, "So, what'd you pack?"

"Um . . ." The black silk blindfold slipped from Sam's hand and onto the ground, his mouth hanging slightly open.

Bobby loved being back in control, "Oysters maybe? Truffles?" He slid across the ice and retrieved the basket, folding back the red checked cloth. "OoOoo, even better. Chocolate covered strawberries, and mmmm . . . squirty whipped cream. Well done. Is this champagne?" He popped the cork, spreading out the blanket Sam packed on the ice. Bobby poured the white bubbly liquid into a cup and patted a spot beside him. "You coming cornflower, or am I going to have to finish this bottle off by myself?"

Sam slid in beside him, smirking, "Cornflower?"

"Yup," he took a swig straight from the bottle, "you like it?"

"That was classy, Bobby. I did bring two cups you know." He shook his head in mock disgust.

"Cups are overrated," he cooed, spraying a dollop of whip cream onto Sam's nose. "And so are plates."

"So true," moaned Sam as Bobby licked off the cream, moving slowly down and pressing his lips to Sam's. Bobby melted into Sam's strong embrace and kissed him deeply, warm and safe and happy in the blonde's arms. Sam stroked a gentle hand through his hair as Bobby let him take the lead in the kiss, laying him lightly down on his back and nibbling on his lower lip. Sam abruptly pulled his head back, grinning wickedly and seizing the can of whip cream from Bobby's hand "You know, I'm suddenly not in the mood for strawberries . . ."

Bobby returned his smile. "I like your style, cornflower."

AN: Did you like it? Go forth disciples and spread the word of Bam!!! Or you know, at least review. Oh and keep an eye out for a semi-sequel. Thanks for giving Bam a chance!!